


Dawn and Twilight

by Elri (angelrider13)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I Made A Thing, Sora is the Bridge that connects them, Vanitas is the Twilight, Ventus is the Dawn, basically things get weird because baby Sora does a thing, possible ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelrider13/pseuds/Elri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were two halves of the same whole. Not Light and Dark, no, that was too black and white. After all, the Worlds worked in shades of gray. No, they were Dawn and Twilight, the rising and setting sun, the place in between. A story where a Heart that was once whole will always know its other half and a young boy builds the Bridge that connects them.</p><p>In which Sora looks a little deeper when he heals Ven’s heart and ends up fixing a wrong previously ignored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Borrowed Light

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this literally just hit me in the middle of the day. Just *BAM* "Hey, what if..." and I just kinda ran with it.
> 
> Admittedly, I've taken some liberty here, because technically (and correct me if I'm wrong), I'm pretty sure Sora is a wee little baby when Jerk-nort does the thing to Ventus's heart. And because this holds true in my story - though it may not seem like it - I am going to clarify a few things before we start. If you don't read ANs, the tough cookies, be forever confused. No seriously, if you ask me this in a comment, I'm not answering. ANs exist of a reason!!
> 
> Anywho~
> 
> This chapter it from _Sora's_ point of view and I wrote it that way. It is very simplistic because of his young age (i.e. teeny-tiny baby child). However, that doesn't mean that Sora is physically there - he's not. His consciousness perceives things differently though, so - because his mind is present - that's how he understands it. His consciousness is acting as his body would if he were present for the situation. Now, I get that at this point Sora is probably only a few days old (He tells Ven that he's a "new heart") at most, so his actions and such are unrealistic. But lets be honest, in canon, Sora - newborn, tiny, helpless, baby Sora - still helps Ven. I'm only taking that and stretching it a bit further.
> 
> And that's pretty much my thoughts on the matter. Any questions and such about them will be answered only if you ask nicely. No mean-ness allowed!
> 
> Now, with that out of the way, please enjoy!

Sora stayed even as the boy with the empty, hazy blue eyes woke. He stayed and looked at the mended heart he had helped make. He didn’t really understand what had called him here in the first place. He just knew that one minute he had been sleeping soundly, and the next there was a bright, bright light calling out for him. And even though this light was bright – the brightest he had ever seen, in fact – it felt wrong. It felt hurt, broken, like it was crying. So he had wandered closer to take a look.

Only to discover that the bright, bright light had been broken in a terribly, horrible way.

And that the beautiful, horribly broken, bright light belonged to an equally beautiful, horribly broken boy.

He was older than Sora, but his eyes were so blank. It hurt to look at them. It hurt to look at the bright, bright light. It was crying and the boy it belonged to was sad – sad and maybe dying.

Because his heart was broken.

Part of it was snatched away and the rest of him was discarded.

Sora didn’t like seeing this boy so sad and broken.

So he put their hearts together, intertwined them so that the bright, bright light wouldn’t go out, but wouldn’t be so bright that it hurt either. And broken shard became a whole. A whole that was green and blue and yellow and bright – but not too bright. Too much bright was bad. This was just enough bright, like watching the sun start to peek over the horizon in the early morning and turn the sky into a sea of colors.

This was much better.

And the boy seemed better to.

He woke up and Sora stayed.

Sora was curious.

The part of the boy’s heart that had been missing was still missing after all, even if his heart was whole again. He was curious because he didn’t think hearts could be broken like that – not completely anyway. They were held together by memories and precious people and love. And as broken as that boy had been, there must have been something before that brokenness. So he stayed and he looked.

And sure enough, just past the edge of the bright-but-not-too-bright light, there were shards. They were blue like the sky and they were scattered, leading away from the whole-now-not-broken-anymore heart. He wondered, with all of the curiosity of his new mind, if he followed this trail of heart shards, would he find the piece that had been stolen away?

Ever so carefully, he jumped onto the closest shard of sky blue broken heart. When it held, he smiled and followed the trail. And he watched at the sky blue under his feet slowly got darker and darker and darker still. Sky blue turned into deep, dark purple. And that deep, dark purple led to another broken heart that was a deep, deep dark to the bright, bright light from before.

And just like before, this deep, deep dark was sad. So very, very sad. It was screaming and empty and _alone_.

And just like before, this deep, deep dark came with a broken boy.

He was different from the other, with hair as black as night and shining gold eyes. Eyes that weren’t hazy or lost like the other’s, but still broken and terrified and tired all the same. He was huddled in the center of his broken-shattered-not-whole-anymore heart with black pooling around him and arms wrapped around him tight like he was trying to keep anymore pieces from slipping away.

“Hi!” he said as he jumped onto the boy’s broken heart and walked over the deep, dark purple and crimson and black that was so very different from the blue and the green and the yellow and the bright.

The dark boy’s head whipped up and he stared at him in surprise before those gold, gold eyes narrowed in a glare.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, “This is _my_ heart! Mine!”

“I know,” he said, coming to stand in front of the angry-scared-broken boy, “I followed the trail you left from the other boy’s heart.”

Gold eyes blinked. “You mean my light. I want it back. But Master separated us and now it always _aches_.”

Sora nodded as he watched the boy curl further into himself, pain and fear and brokenness making it hard for him to stay angry at the intruder to his heart.

“The other boy hurt too,” Sora said, “His light was too bright and it was crying so loudly, so I followed it.”

The dark boy’s brow furrowed. “The other boy…?” he blinked, “Oh. Him. The one that was too weak to accomplish the Master’s goals.”

Sora just hummed. “He doesn’t sound like a nice master.”

The boy snorted. “He’s not.”

Sora cocked his head to the side. “Then why follow him?”

“He made me,” was the simple response.

Sora frowned at the boy and his curled up form and too-dark-broken heart. “He hurt you. He broke you.”

The boy didn’t say anything, just glared at him with those glowing gold eyes.

“I helped the other boy stop hurting so he wouldn’t lose any more of his heart,” Sora continued, “Maybe I can do that for you too.”

The boy stared at him in surprise, angry glare completely wiped away. “You can do that?”

Sora smiled. “My heart’s new,” he said, “But I think it’s big enough to help both of you.”

And then Sora stepped up to the deep, dark, broken boy and wrapped his tiny arms around wide shoulders and held him close. The boy sucked in a sharp breath and Sora reached between them with his heart and suddenly everything was less. The boy sagged against him, uncoiling and the screaming from inside the deep, deep dark grew quieter. After a long moment, Sora pulled back and looked around.

Just like before, the broken, shattered pieces formed a whole with the parts he provided. His was still purple and crimson, but it wasn’t the deep dark kind and the black had turned to gray. It was softer and less jagged, soothing. Like the sun sinking below the horizon and turned sky blue day to dark blue night.

He smiled at the boy who looked around himself at the not-broken-but-whole heart with wide eyes.

“There,” he said, drawing the boy’s gaze back to him, “Now you’re not too Dark and he’s not too Light.”

The boy just stared. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he said slowly, looking down at his hands before drawing them close to his chest.

“Our hearts have touched,” Sora said, “Nothing else will slip away now. And when the time comes, you and the other boy can decide what to do.”

The boy blinked and his brow furrowed. “What to do?”

But Sora just smiled. “It’s time to wake up now.”


	2. Waking Twilight

Vanitas jerked awake, scrambling into a crouching position. He didn’t remember falling asleep.

The wind whistled as it blew through the rocks around him and he looked around, trying to remember what had happened. Master had left him the wastes of the Keyblade Graveyard, he remembered that. He also remembered that he said his Light was dying and so he took him away.

And then the creatures came.

They were dark, strange looking things and they had hurt. So much. Without his Light, everything hurt. And these creatures, when they appeared, everything hurt a little less. But then they wanted to be whole. And he remembered – they were part of him. They came from him and his pain. They were what was left of his shattered, fragment of a heart. And they wanted to be whole. So they tried to force their way back into his heart, or what was left of it. It was agony. Like someone had split him open and was trying to flip him inside out.

Everything went dark after that.

That was when the child-voice came. Came and held him close and made the hurting less.

He brought a hand to his chest and marveled at the steady beat under his palm. The rhythmic _thump-ba-thump_ didn’t hurt anymore; it didn’t feel like something was trying to claw its way out of his chest. He could breathe. For the first time since he opened his eyes, since he had been ripped away from his Light.

That small, little voice-child-boy had somehow made it hurt less.

_“He doesn’t sound like a nice master.”_

Vanitas shook his head. Of course Master wasn’t nice; he had ripped them apart after all. But he had needed too because the way they were meant they were too weak to fulfill the Master’s goals. But Vanitas was strong – stronger than their Original and their Light. He was better. So the Master would keep him.

The Master had told him to stay here and train, to become even stronger so that when the time came, he could complete his task. And the Master promised that if he did this, the hurting would be less.

_“He hurt you. He broke you.”_

Vanitas frowned. It was true. The boy-voice hadn’t been lying so Vanitas couldn’t get mad at him for it. The Master did break them in the most horrible way. The boy-child-voice himself didn’t seem angry about it either, just sad. And then he took Vanitas’s heart in his hands and made it whole.

He made the hurting less.

Not the Master.

The Master hadn’t helped him at all. He had left him here in this barren place alone except for his broken shards of a heart.

_“Then why do you follow him?”_

Why did he? It seemed so obvious before. The Master had made him – made him stronger, faster, _better_. But to do that he had broken him. He still remembered the way their heart had shattered as he was ripped away, the way their Original had screamed as he was torn apart, the way his Light went blind to everything, even him.

It had been painful. Agonizing.

He had been left jagged and raw and aching. His Light had been left silent and sightless and dying. Their Original had been broken and shattered and gone.

And the Master. The Master had just smiled. Smiled and called him an empty creature, like he was less – less than human, less than perfect, less than a whole. And he was. Less than a whole, that was. But that hadn’t been his fault or his choice. He had wanted his Light _back_. But the Master had taken him away. Taken him away to get rid of him. Taken him away so he could die.

Taken him away and made Vanitas stay.

Even though Vanitas wanted nothing more than to follow. For all his Light was dying, he still called out for him, reaching, aching. Neither of them had been able to cover the gap between them – it was too large, too deep.

But then the voice-child had come. He had come, drawn in by a light that was too bright and too sad, he had said. And when he found it had been broken, he made it whole. And then he found the gap between them and made a Bridge between their shattered hearts. The boy-child-voice climbed over the too deep, too large gap and made him whole again too. And now he didn’t feel so Dark anymore and the gap between him and his Light didn’t seem so far.

Not too Dark and not too Light, the child-voice had said.

When he made them whole he must have made them something in between.

Maybe that was why it hurt less. Why there was no more pressure threatening to shatter what was left of him. Why he could feel his Light as a steady warmth in the back of his mind and the center of his heart. Why he felt whole even though he knew that he wasn’t.

It was…nice.

He didn’t really remember what the Original felt like – what it felt like to truly be whole. Just impressions really. The memories he held as himself were all pain. Pain and loneliness and being stuck in a place that was too deep dark. And through it all, the Master had been there. Smiling. Like he had done something wonderful. Like he hadn’t just ripped their Original to shreds. Like he had just won the most wonderful prize.

_“It’s time to wake up now.”_

Vanitas nodded to himself and stood slowly. Carefully. He allowed himself a small smile when the pain didn’t come back, when none of those creatures appeared and tried to make him hurt more. Yes, it was time to wake up now. Time to wake up and leave. Leave the Master that hurt him and smiled that cold smile and looked at him with those hungry eyes.

He wasn’t Dark anymore, but that was fine. He was more now – more than a fragment or a part. He could feel it in his heart. That boy had given him some Light when he made him whole. Not a lot, but enough to make the deep dark a little less deep.

Not too Dark and not too Light, the child-voice had said.

He had both now, both Light and Dark, like any other person would have in their heart. He was still more Dark than Light, but he was fine with that. It felt nice to have the right parts. The parts that made most people whole even if he wasn’t really whole.

He supposed this meant that he wasn’t Dark anymore.

Perhaps he could be Twilight instead.


	3. Slumbering Dawn

He felt empty. Hollow.

He knew his name. He was Ventus. He remembered that. But everything else. Everything else was just...gone. Blank. Or maybe hidden was a better way to look at it. Like a thick, black curtain had been dragged over his memories, concealing them from view.

When he had woken, there was a man with him. Master Xehanort. The Master explained that he had been in an accident, that he had been hurt very badly, and that he was going to a place where he would be able to heal. Which all sounded nice – the healing part at least, not the hurting part.

The part that he didn’t understand, the part that made him wary, was that something deep inside him wanted to get away from the Master. But that didn’t make any sense; the Master had helped him, had rescued him. He didn’t have anything to fear from this man.

…Right?

For all he tried, he couldn’t make the feeling go away. Something was wrong with the Master and no act of kindness was going to erase that. Every time the Master reached for him, he would flinch before he could stop himself. When the Master spoke to him, he didn’t want to speak back. When the Master looked at him, he wanted to hide somewhere where the man would never be able to find him.

And even as he thought and felt all of this, even as he tried to figure out why this man felt so wrong, he felt wrong himself. Like his heart didn’t fit quite right in his body or something in his soul had shifted and he still wasn’t used to it yet. Maybe it was the memories and the blankness that came with the lack of them. Maybe that was why all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

He was just so _tired_. Like all of the energy had been sucked out of him and his body had forgotten how to make more. He supposed it wouldn’t be all that surprising given everything else he’s forgotten. Perhaps it was a result of this accident that Master Xehanort kept talking about. He had been hurt after all, so he was still recovering.

But he didn’t hurt.

Surely if he had been injured, he would still be healing. Didn’t that mean he was supposed to be hurting? Not that he wanted to be hurting, oh no, he’d had enough of that already when –

…when what?

Ventus frowned faintly. When what? There had been pain. A lot of pain. He knew that. He remembered that. And there had been light. So much bright, bright light. Why had it been so bright? Why did it hurt? What made it stop?

Had Master Xehanort made the pain go away?

No.

Ventus blinked slowly, surprised at how quickly the thought had come when everything else seemed to have slowed down. But no, the Master had not made the pain go away. He didn’t know why he thought that, but he knew it was true. The Master had nothing to do with that.

So what had helped him? Because it certainly wasn’t the Master. For all of his kindness, Ventus did not like him. He wanted to be away from him. But his body wasn’t working quite right and his mind was too scattered to think straight. He still wanted to leave though, still wanted to get away.

“I’m Terra. What’s your name?”

Ventus blinked and looked up. Oh. Master Xehanort was gone. And he was in a large hall. And there was a boy in front of him. A boy with blue, blue eyes that were so different from the Master’s. His eyes were always calculating and his smile was always cold. But this boy. His eyes were kind. And his smile was warm. Welcoming. And he was called Terra. And he had asked…oh.

“Ventus,” he said softly. He knew his name. He knew that. He remembered that.

Terra grinned. “Whew, you can talk,” he said.

Of course he could talk. He wasn’t _that_ broken. Was he? He couldn’t remember. He knew he wasn’t whole. He knew that because he could feel the presence in the back of his mind and the warmth in his heart. That was important. He couldn’t remember what it was or what it meant, but he knew it was important.

“Hi, I’m Aqua.”

Oh. There was a girl now. And her eyes were kind. Kind like the boy’s. No. That wasn’t right.

“Terra…Aqua,” he said slowly, looking at each of them in turn. He could remember this. He would. He could remember Master Xehanort’s name even though he didn’t like him. These two were kind. They were so much better. So he could remember them. He couldn’t remember Before, but he would make sure that he remembered After.

“So are you here to train with us?” Terra asked.

Train? What did training have to do with anything? He was here to get better. Or had Master Xehanort lied about that too? Wait. Why did he know that the Master had already lied to him? Did he know the Master from before?

“Where are you from? Who was that man with you?” Terra continued to ask

From…? From where? Like a home? Did he have a home? He couldn’t remember. He knew the man though. The man was Master Xehanort. He told him so himself. Unless he was lying then too.

Why was he thinking about lying again? Oh. Right. The Master was a liar. That felt right. He didn’t know why, but it did. He was lying. About something. Maybe that was why he wanted to get away. Because of the lies.

“You good with a keyblade?”

His heart froze.

Keyblade.

No. No, no, no, no no nonononononono! Keyblade. Keyblade. Keyblade meant pain; why did it mean pain? It hurt. So much hurting. Too much hurting! Make it stop! Someone make it stop! It’s too bright! Too bright! It hurts! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Make it go away! Make it stop! Why isn’t it stopping? He wanted it to stop. He asked for it to stop! He begged! He remembered begging! But it didn’t stop! Why wasn’t it stopping? He was already broken enough! He didn’t want any more pain! It was too much pain! Too much! And so much light! Too much light! Why was there so much light? He wanted it to go away! Go away! Make it stop!

TURN OFF THE LIGHT!

And then everything was dark. But not his Dark. Huh. That was a funny thought. But it was a nice one. His Dark. He liked it. The warmth in his heart liked it too. But he could figure out what that meant later. He was still so _tired_. So very, very tired.

Sleep.

He would sleep.

Things would be better when he woke.


	4. Meeting in the Gray

It was quiet.

And he was fine with that. Outside was too noisy. But here it was calm. Here he could think. Not that he was doing much of that anyway. His head still felt all hazy and wrong – he couldn’t think straight at all. But that was fine to, he supposed. He didn’t need to do much thinking here. Here he could just be. It was his heart after all.

His heart.

Hmmm…yes. That felt right.

“Wow. I knew you were in a sorry state, but this is just pathetic.”

He blinked. He wanted to whirl around and confront whoever was intruding on _his_ heart, but his body still wasn’t working right, even here. Instead, his head just kind of lulled back until he could look over his shoulder.

Huh. Had that Bridge always been there? It was like a Heart, but not. With patterns made of colored glass and railings made of a soft, golden, glowing light.

And there was a boy there. Standing on the Bridge. A boy who looked a lot like him, but different. His hair was darker, but still just as messy and spiky. And his eyes. They were gold, instead of…what color were his eyes?

The boy sighed. “Jeez, you’re hopeless,” he said, “Your eyes are blue, idiot.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“So can I come in or what?”

He blinked again and looked down at the boy’s feet. He hadn’t left the Bridge yet.

His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he did a sort of half shrug. “Why are you even asking?”

The boy snorted. “Cause you’re still kinda screwed up from when we were separated.”

At that, he finally managed to turn his body to face this strange boy. “You’re my Dark,” he stated matter of factly.

He didn’t know why he said that. It just slipped out. But it felt _right_. It felt right when everything else felt wrong.

The boy stared at him, long and hard. “You remember?” he asked after a moment.

He shook his head. “No,” he said softly, bringing a hand up to his chest, “But it feels right.”

“Ventus.” He blinked and looked up at the boy. “What do you remember?”

Ventus took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Pain,” he said, “Pain and light. Too much light.”

The boy nodded absently, golden eyes lost in thought.

“Do you have a name?” Ventus asked, curious. He didn’t want to just keep calling him boy.

The dark boy startled and blinked. “Vanitas,” he replied.

Ventus nodded slowly. “Vanitas…”

Vanitas gave a harsh sigh and marched up to him, taking his face in both hands. Of their own accord, Ventus’s hands came up and locked around his wrists. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, wide eyed.

“…I think you have our Original’s body,” Vanitas mumbled at last.

Ventus blinked, frowning. “You’re what slipped away, aren’t you?” he asked, “The part that was taken.”

Vanitas nodded. “Yeah. The Master split us into parts, remember? Light and Dark.”

Ventus said nothing. The Master. Master Xehanort had done this? Master Xehanort was the reason he was broken?

“Hey.” Hands were on his shoulders, shaking him. “Pay attention, stupid.”

“He broke us…?” he murmured.

Vanitas nodded. “Yeah. He wanted us to do something, but we didn’t. Or couldn’t. Can’t really remember which. So he broke us apart.”

Ventus hummed. “But we’re more now. There was…something. Something else. Another heart.”

“Where ever the Master took you to get rid of you, someone there helped us,” Vanitas said, “Gave us whole hearts instead of fragments.”

Ventus frowned. “So you’re not my Dark? And I’m not you’re Light?”

The other shrugged. “Hell if I know,” he replied, “I know I’ve got some Light in me so the Dark isn’t as…Dark. Maybe you got some of it so that your Light wasn’t so bright.”

“Not too Light and not too Dark,” Ventus said softly.

“Yep,” Vanitas said, drawing away. Ventus felt the loss immediately. “Not really sure what happened, but I think you got the Original’s body and I got the mind.”

“Is that why everything is so blank?” he whispered.

Vanitas frowned. The expression looked harsh on his face. “…Blank?”

He shook his head. “…There’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

Vanitas growled, the sound dark and feral. Ventus looked up at him startled. “That _asshole_! Is he still with you? Has he done anything?!”

Ventus shook his head. “He was…kind,” he said, face twisting at the thought. Was that why the kindness had felt so wrong? Why he didn’t want any of it? How could the Master act like he wasn’t the one who had caused him such pain?

Vanitas’s expression said much the same. “What,” he said flatly, “He…what?”

Ventus wrapped his arms around himself. “He helped me. I…didn’t like it.”

The other snorted. “No shit.”

“He took me somewhere,” Ventus continued, “Somewhere where they train with…with keyblades.”

Vanitas frowned. “So?”

Ventus stared at him. “But…a keyblade…a keyblade broke…” he sucked in a harsh breath and tightened his grip on his arms to try and stop the trembling.

Vanitas’s eyes went wide. “You’re scared of…?” and then he threw his hear back and laughed. “Oh, that’s too funny! That is so pathetic! Even for you!”

Ventus frowned. He didn’t know when he moved or why, but he did and Vanitas was suddenly on the ground and his hand was clenched into a fist. Vanitas stared up at him from where he laid sprawled out on his back, completely dumbfounded, before bursting into hysterics again. Ventus just looked at his fist, bewildered. That was the fastest he had ever moved. Well, After anyway. He wasn’t too sure about Before.

“You’re kinda crazy,” he said, crouching by Vanitas’s head.

The other boy grinned up at him and to anyone else the expression might have been frightening – it was dark and wild and maybe a little bit insane. But to Ventus, it seemed natural. That was just who Vanitas was. He was his Dark. Even if he wasn’t all Dark anymore.

“Well you’re kinda meek,” Vanitas shot back as he sat up, “How are you going to wield your keyblade if you’re scared of them?”

Ventus stared. “I…what?”

Vanitas frowned at him. “You…don’t remember that either,” he said more than asked, but Ventus shook his head anyway. The darker boy held his hand out in front of him and there was a flash and Ventus paled at the sight of the keyblade that was suddenly there.

He rocked back on his heels so far that he fell on his rear in his scramble to get away.

“If I’ve got one, you’ve got one,” Vanitas said frankly, ignoring his other’s apparent terror.

“I don’t want it!”

“Tough,” Vanitas growled, grabbing Ventus’s shirt and hauling him in close.

The sudden movement cased the lighter boy’s hand to land on the keyblade. He froze even as Vanitas watched him closely. The keyblade felt…different. It didn’t feel at all like he thought it would. There was no pain, no cutting cruelty, no calculating coldness. It felt like him, but not. Like a shadow. Like the Dark. Like his Dark. It felt like Vanitas. Slowly, he wrapped his hand around Vanitas’s at the hilt of the keyblade.

It fit. Maybe not him as himself, but it fit Vanitas and it fit him when he was with his Darker part.

“Oh,” he said softly.

“Yeah. Oh.” Ventus didn’t have to look to know he was rolling his eyes. “You’re really stupid, ya know?”

Ventus snorted. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to relearn everything. You got the mind, remember?”

“That’s just a guess,” Vanitas scoffed, “Don’t make excuses.”

“Shut up,” Ventus mumbled as he sagged against the darker boy.

“You’re waking up,” Vanitas observed.

“Don’ wanna,” Ventus said, latching onto the other’s arm, “Stay with you.”

“You’re an idiot. You can’t stay here forever. Besides, we aren’t separated, we have a Bridge now, remember?”

“Mmm,” Ventus nodded, “Still don’ wanna leave. _He_ ’s back there. Don’ wanna.”

Vanitas tensed. “You sure _he_ ’s there?”

“He brought me there,” Ventus replied, “I don’t remember him leaving.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I don’t remember a lot of things though.”

“There are other people though, right?”

“Hm. Terra and Aqua. They had kind eyes.”

Vanitas was quiet for a moment. “Stick with them,” he said eventually, “He shouldn’t try anything with other people around.”

Ventus sighed. “Alright,” he said softly.

“Come on, Dawn,” Vanitas said with a nudge, “Time to wake up.”

“Dawn?” he questioned.

The other shrugged. “Well you’re not all Light and I’m not all Dark, but you’re still Lighter than me and I’m still Darker than you. So…Dawn and Twilight.”

Ventus was quiet as he rolled the thought over in his head. “I like it.”

“Glad you approve,” Vanitas said dryly, “Now wake up.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “Bye, Twilight.”

“Later, Dawn.”


	5. Healing What Was Broken

When Ventus opened his eyes, he was a little disappointed that the haziness was still there. But the pain and the fear and the panic were gone, so he supposed the haziness was alright. He still felt sluggish, though. It took him a while to sit up. Not that he really remembered how long it took normally. It felt slow anyway.

“You’re awake! Ventus, oh, it’s a miracle!”

He blinked and looked up to see a retreating back and blue. A lot of blue. Blue…oh. Aqua, right. Her name was Aqua. That’s good, he remembered.

“You’re up! You had us really worried!”

Ventus turned and there was a boy standing next to a beaming Aqua, out of breath like he had just sprinted here. He might have, Ventus mused, but why would he? Wait. He wasn’t boy though. He was…

“Terra,” he said and the older boy grinned at him.

“You remembered!” he exclaimed, smile never faltering.

Ventus nodded slowly. “Mm. Terra and Aqua,” he said slowly, turning towards the girl as he spoke. She was smiling as well.

Was it all because he remembered their names? That was easy. And he decided he like seeing them smile. So he would definitely remember their names now.

“Yeah,” Aqua said, smiling like Terra, though hers was smaller, softerHe was

, “That’s us.”

Terra’s smile suddenly faltered some and he rubbed that back of his neck sheepishly. “Hey, listen, Ventus. About before. I’m sorry.”

Before? What happened before? Did he mean the questions? But why…oh. The questions made him upset and he went to sleep to get away. But that…it wasn’t Terra’s fault that he was broken.

“No,” he said simply, because Terra didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

The boy looked startled and Aqua looked surprised. “No?” Terra asked, head cocked to the side.

Oh. Maybe he didn’t understand? Talking was harder here though. It was easy when he was in his heart talking to Vanitas. But here, he couldn’t always remember the words and when he did, his mouth wouldn’t always form them. It was frustrating. But Terra was frowning now and he liked the smile better.

“Not…you,” he said carefully, making sure each word sounded right.

Terra still looked confused though. Aqua put a hand on his arm, drawing his attention to her. “I think he means that it wasn’t your fault,” she said.

Ventus gave a single, shallow nod when Terra turned back to him. The smile came back and Ventus was happy.

“I’m still sorry,” Terra insisted.

Ventus just hummed. That was okay. Terra could still be sorry if he kept smiling. Smiling was better. It was nicer. He wanted something nicer right now. He’d had enough bad.

“Ah, it is good to see you up, Ventus.”

He looked up and saw someone new entering the room. He had dark hair and eyes and there were scars on his face that made his expression look a little harsh, but his voice was kind. He was older then Terra and Aqua and they seemed relaxed around him, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

“My name is Master Eraqus and this – ”

Anything else he might have said was cut off when Ventus suddenly inhaled sharply. Master. Eraqus was a Master. Had he simply traded in one for another? Or had he gained two? Was Xehanort even gone?

“Whoa! Hey, easy Ventus!”

A hand landed on his shoulder and – oh. He was on the ground. When did he get on the ground? And that was Terra’s hand. It was warm. Terra was helping him up. Why was he doing that? Oh, right. He had been on the floor. Why was he on the floor again?

“Ventus, are you alright?” Aqua asked, peering into his blank eyes with worry.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know; was he alright? He might not be. No, he definitely wasn’t. But he didn’t know if it was bad yet. Though it probably was. Because –

“No one here will hurt you, Ventus.”

He blinked slowly and looked up at the voice. He was…he was Master Eraqus. That’s right. He was a Master. And that was bad. Maybe? He didn’t know. But – oh. He said no one would hurt him. But Master Xehanort lied. Did that mean that Master Eraqus lied too?

“Lying?” he asked.

Master Eraqus shook his head. “We will not hurt you, Ventus,” he said, his voice steady and firm, “We want to help you. You are safe here.”

He stared at the man for a long moment before letting his eyes drag over to Terra and Aqua. They both gave him reassuring smiles and Terra kept a firm grip on him to keep him upright.

“Safe…” he murmured, sagging in Terra’s hold, falling against him. The taller boy easily adjusted his grip and let Ventus lean against his side.

“That’s right, Ventus,” Aqua said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Her hand was warm too.

“Okay,” he said softly, turning back to Master Eraqus, “Stay here.”

The Master nodded. “Master Xehanort has left you in our care. You will stay here to recover and once you have…well, we’ll see,” he said with a slight smile.

Left…? Master Xehanort left him here? Did that mean he was…?

“Gone?” he asked.

Master Eraqus blinked, brow furrowing.

Ah. He was confused, like Terra was earlier. Hmmm…words were still hard. But he needed to know, so…

“Xeh – xea…Xeha…”

Urgh. Why did this guy have to have such hard name?

“Master Xehanort?” Aqua asked.

He hummed and gave a shallow nod. He liked Aqua. Aqua understood even if he couldn’t talk right yet.

“Yes, Master Xehanort has left. He had some matters to attend to and he wished for you to have a more stable environment to recover in,” Master Eraqus explained.

He didn’t care about the reasons. They were probably just more lies. But he was gone. He was gone and he left Ventus alone. If he could smile, he probably would have. But expressions were harder than talking.

“Good,” he said instead, “Stay here.”

The other three smiled.


	6. Shadows in the Wind

Gold eyes narrowed at the wasteland before him.

The boy was gone. There were lingering traces of darkness, but no sign of the boy himself. So he had left or was taken. He dismissed the latter immediately. No one knew of the boy’s existence, save himself and this world was extremely hard to enter if one did not possess a keyblade. No, the boy must have left of his own accord.

The question was why?

He had seemed content when he had left and yet he returns to find him missing, gone without a trace. Perhaps the boy was not as stable as he had thought. No, he had been stable enough; he had checked as he extracted him from the other boy’s heart. He was well enough to survive on his own.

So the boy was deliberately disobeying him. It seemed he had inherited the stubbornness of his original heart.

Hmm.

If that was the case, he would just to remedy it, wouldn’t he?

-

Vanitas glared at the sky from behind his mask.

The old man probably knew that he was gone by now. And as much as he wanted to, hightailing it over to Ventus wasn’t an option. Xehanort knew exactly where the boy was and had, hopefully, left him there. Plus, his Lighter half wasn’t in any condition to do much of anything. No, seeing him in person would have to wait for now.

Besides, he wasn’t in that much better shape. His body still felt awkward compared to his heart and there were still gaps in his mind. Not to mention the strange creatures that had appeared in his distress back in the Keyblade Graveyard. None had appeared since he left, but he swore he could still feel them lingering under his skin. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination or not. Maybe he was just paranoid.

Regardless, he needed to find a world he could hide on for a little while. Just until he figured things out.

He’d already stopped at one. It was alright, he supposed. There was an old wizard there who taught him a few spells – just the basics much to his disappointment, but they were useful and it gave him something to practice and master. That world was bright though. A little too bright for his tastes. A good world to visit, but not one to stay on for too long.

Ventus would probably like it if he ever figured out how to put himself back together, the moron. Though he supposed he couldn’t fault him because he was still in their Original’s body. The body that felt their heart being ripped in two, the body that had to live through that trauma. He wasn’t entirely sure which was worse: remembering it or feeling it.

Both were painful burdens in their own ways.

He shook his head. Whatever. It didn’t matter. They would just have to deal with it. They had lived through it, so dealing with the aftermath was doable too. And then they would prove to the old man that they didn’t need him, that they never needed him, and that he could take his experiments and shove them up his ass. Crazy old coot.

Vanitas couldn’t wait to see the old man’s expression. Part of him wanted to see his expression when he realized that he was gone, but he wasn’t dumb enough to stick around. He’d had enough, thank you very much. And if sticking around meant that more of those creatures would come and try to tear apart what little was left of him, then he’d pass.

He’d rather wander between worlds until the end of time than do that again.

He was sure the creatures had their uses and all that, but they hurt damnit! And he’d had enough of that. Was it really so much to ask not to be in pain anymore? Because that was really all he wanted. Maybe if he practiced with them…but was it worth the risk? Possibly. He should wait though. Gather his strength and work with his keyblade. He could decide after that if it was worth it or not.

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

Now he just needed to find somewhere he could train with his keyblade that the old man wouldn’t think to look.

Vanitas looked around the seemingly endless space he was surrounded with and sighed.

Easier said than done.

-

This place was twilight. Constant, unending twilight.

He didn’t think such a thing existed. But the longer he stayed, the more he realized that the sun’s position in the sky never changed. It was just sinking below the horizon, but never quite dipped under it. The sky remained unchanged – day, night, morning, afternoon, it didn’t matter – the same reds and oranges and yellows painted the sky. An eternal sunset.

It was a fitting place, he supposed.

Not too Light and not too Dark.

The town wasn’t exactly his scene, but he had figured out early on that he didn’t really mesh well with other people. He couldn’t really figure out what it was, but he didn’t like being around people. They were good for background noise though. They drove away the overwhelming quiet of the Dark. So people were fine, but only at a distance.

Sitting on top of the clock tower and watching the sky while listening to the hustle and bustle of the town below was nice. It made him feel calm. Which was odd because he didn’t really do calm. He was almost always on edge. But here he wasn’t. Here he could relax some.

He found an old mansion on the outskirts of the town. It looked like it had been abandoned for years and the large lock on the gate kept those with too much curiosity out. Not that a lock was a problem for someone with a keyblade, but for everyone else it might pose a challenge.  It would be a good place to rest. Somewhere where no one would bother him. It also had space and was far enough away from everything that he would be able to practice without being seen or interrupted.

Yes, this world full of Twilight.

He could stay for a while.


	7. Learning the Art

“This place is _ridiculous_ ,” Vanitas hissed as he faced yet another magical floating staircase.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at it for a good five minutes just for the principle of the thing, before heaving a sigh and heading for the stairs.

He’d been in Twilight Town for three months now.

His body felt…well still not right exactly, but he finally felt comfortable in his own skin. Which counted as something he supposed. Part of it might have been his constant training. He stayed in the old mansion more often than not, going through the motions with his keyblade, re-familiarizing himself with something he never should have forgotten in the first place. It was hard at first, but practice made perfect and all that.

So that was what he did. He practiced. With his keyblade, with the magic he’d picked up. He’d practiced slipping through shadows and walking in the light. He’d kept at it until it became as easy as breathing. He felt better for it.

There was, however, a limit to how much one could train while locked up in an old abandoned mansion before boredom set in.

He’d started wondering around town until he’d come across a train that no one else seemed to be able to see.

It led him here, to this strange tower with floating staircases and magic singing in the walls.

Vanitas was curious.

And also kinda fed up.

This place seemed never ending, with staircase after staircase and weird doors that led to nothing. This tower as definitely bigger on the inside.

“This had better be the last one,” he grumbled as he reached the top and shoved the door open.

Instead of glowing orbs of light or animated brooms or _more_ floating stairs, he found a rather plain, normal looking hallway. The walls were lined with windows and the cool, soft light from the stars shown through.

“Huh,” he said, “This is unexpected.”

He wandered down the hall, weary. It was quiet here, not as quiet as the Dark, but still enough to put him on edge. This place was different than any other he had been before and he wasn’t really sure what to expect. There was a door at the end of the hall and he could hear muffled voices on the other side. With an absent shrug, he pushed the door open and peeked inside.

It was a study.

There were two figures inside, one seated behind the desk and one standing before it. The one behind the desk was an old man with stern eyes and a long beard. He looked up at Vanitas’s entrance and his lips pulled into a frown.

The smaller figure with large black ears before the desk noticed the man’s distraction and turned to face him as well.

“Soooooo,” he drawled, “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

-

Ventus was content.

Possibly even happy. He was still figuring things out. On the plus side, he wasn’t so sluggish anymore. His body moved when he wanted it to and words came easier now. Master Eraqus gave him exercises to do and Aqua and Terra were more than happy to help him with them.

He still didn’t remember that much about Before. But he was getting better about that, mostly because he remembered everything that came After. Aqua even gave him a journal to writing things down in just in case.

He was even able to sit in on lessons with them.

Keyblades were still a challenge for him. He still flinched when they appeared or got to close. But watching Terra go through kata or Aqua cast magic helped. They weren’t hurting. They were safe. They made the keyblade _dance_.

Ventus thought it was beautiful.

He still wasn’t ready to call for his own blade. He could feel it there, in the back of his mind. Waiting. He would check sometimes, to see if it was still there. But he would never reach for it. It seemed fine with that, content to just be.

It was like wind. A constant, gentle breeze.

Wayward Wind.

He remembered that. It was a name. His keyblade’s name. There was a warm hum of agreement in his mind at that. A reminder that his keyblade was there.

 _When you are ready_ , it whispered.

It was calming to know that it was there but not be under any pressure to use it.

He liked the regular lessons too.

Math and literature and history. He liked learning things, knowing things. And Master Eraqus wasn’t bothered by his questions – he encouraged them actually. He was patient and kind and always ready to help. It was…different. But a good kind of different.

There was one thing though, that unsettled him.

He didn’t like the way Master Eraqus talked about the Dark.

Don’t goes down the Dark path. Don’t let your anger cloud your judgement. The Dark was painful and dangerous and _unstable_.

“But,” Ventus said slowly, brow furrowed in confusion, “The Light is exactly the same.”

Terra and Aqua stared at him in surprise. Master Eraqus raised a brow in question.

“What do you mean, Ventus?” he asked.

Ventus pressed his lips together. “You keep talking about Darkness like it’s all bad, but that’s wrong. Too much Darkness is bad, yes, but too much Light is bad too. You have to have both.”

Terra frowned. “Ven…”

“Ventus makes a good point about balance,” Master Eraqus cut in, “Every person has both Light and Dark inside of them.”

“Balance,” Aqua murmured, looking contemplative, “So it’s about finding the right…I can’t think of the right word – ratio? Between Light and Dark. Any disharmony could tip you over the edge.”

Master Eraqus nodded. “The Dark is tempting and easier to rely on. Once you’ve draw on it, it’s hard to resist drawing on it again. Too much and you risk hurting yourself and others.”

“So counter balance with more Light?” Terra asked. He looked more baffled than anything.

Master Eraqus started saying something else, but Ventus wasn’t listening anymore. They didn’t understand. Why didn’t they understand? They talked about the Dark like it was bad and the Light like it was good. But the Light _hurt_. He knew. He _remembered_. And the Dark had made it better.

“That’s wrong,” he said softly.

The others turned to him, confused.

“What’s wrong, Ven?” Aqua asked.

Ventus frowned at them, his confusion showing plainly on his face. “You are.”

Aqua was frowning now and Ventus did not like seeing her frown. He wanted her to smile, but he had to make sure she understood first.

“You all are,” he continued, “You talk like the Dark is bad and the Light is good and that’s wrong. They both just…are.”

“That may be true, Ven, but it’s better to rely on something that’s safe,” Terra said, “The Dark is dangerous.”

Ventus didn’t understand why, but that made him angry. They didn’t _understand_. He shot up to his feet, glaring at them. “Light _hurts_!” he all but shouted at them, “It’s not _safe_!”

Aqua and Terra stared at him with wide eyes.

Master Eraqus looked more concerned than anything. “Ventus, do you remember something about your accident?” he asked gently.

The other two instantly went from shocked to worried.

 _It wasn’t an accident_ , he wanted to say. He grit his teeth against the words. Master Eraqus was friends with Xehanort. If he couldn’t make him understand then why would he believe him?

“No,” he said shortly.

And fled the room.

-

“You have much Darkness in your heart,” Yen Sid said with a deep frown.

Vanitas raised his eyebrows. “And?”

Mickey was looking back and forth between them, eyes worried.

Yen Sid was a Master.

But Vanitas wasn’t going to call him that. Not ever. He’d had enough of Masters. Never again.

When the old man didn’t say anything, he plowed onwards. “Teach me something,” he demanded.

Mickey gapped, but Yen Sid just laced his fingers together and looked contemplative.

“And what is it that you are so desperate to learn?” he asked.

Vanitas narrowed his gold eyes, glaring at him as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Who ever said anything about desperate?”

Yen Sid raised a brow, looking entirely unimpressed. “Are you not?”

“Perceptive old bat,” he grumbled.

Yen Sid said nothing more, merely looking at him. The silence between them grew and Mickey started fidgeting.

Vanitas snarled at them both. “I want to protect my Light,” he ground out at last.

Yen Sid frowned, peering closely at him. “You have no Light.”

“I have enough,” Vanitas snapped.

And he did. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. It counted. He wouldn’t let anyone say otherwise. Besides, the light in his heart wasn’t the same thing as _his Light_.

He gestured furiously to himself. “This is what happens when you rip apart the Light and the Dark in a Heart. I would very much like for it _not_ to happen again.”

Mickey gasped, but Vanitas ignored him. Yen Sid’s eyes were suddenly very hard, boring into him. Vanitas glared right back.

Finally, he nodded.

“Very well. I will teach you what I can.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally my first KH fic, so I would appreciate any feedback you guys can give me!


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